Water
by beware-of-weeping-angels
Summary: The cool, dark water is calling. Can you hear it? Harry can, but will he be able to do the one thing that can take away his pain? Can he do this one thing for himself?


The cold wind swept across my face, blowing my hair away from my face. I turn away, looking back at Hogwarts. The first and second years huddle in little groups outside the doors to the Great Hall; the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh years are all inside, studying and doing homework. The third years are doing whatever they want.

I turn back to look at the Lake, taking a step closer, the cool, dark water calling to me.

Ron and Hermione are in the castle, probably snoging if I know them. They got together last week, and haven't stopped snoging yet, making me feel even more like a third wheel than ever before, and it hurts.

Everything hurts these days, after I defeated Voldemort; everything seemed to fall apart, especially my life. People drifted away from me, but closer to other people, example: Ron and Hermione, Ginny had drifted even closer to Neville, leaving me behind, Dumbledore didn't even talk to me anymore; I did my job, now no one has to be my friends or pretend to like me anymore.

I take another step forward, watching the cool, calm, quite water. It's calling to me, I can hear it, it wants me to go closer, it wants me to walk in. I watch it, memorized, walking closer, I see the face of the person I've loved from afar appear in the water. I know it's not real, especially when they say that they want to be friends. I long to run my hands through his pale blond hair, but I know that, that will never come to pass. Yes, I'm gay, and yes I'm in love with Draco Malfoy. I kick sand over the image, not wanting to see the taunting image of what will never be.

I walk down the dock they built after I defeated Voldemort. It's a memorial of sorts; everyone who fought in the war's name is on this dock somewhere.

I pat my pocket, making sure that everything is okay still, that everything is where it's supposed to be.

I lay down on the dock, my hand drifting in the water.

Can you hear it? The water? _ Come to me Harry; let me take away your pain, your sorrow. Let me be the one to help you find life again. Let me take away your troubles, the hurtful words and people. Let me be the one to catch you as you fall._

It calls to me; the dark water is cool against my hand. I sigh and lean against my arm on the dock. No one will find me here until it is too late to do anything.

I reach for the knife in my pocket, pulling it out. I cut my right wrist three times, watching as the vital red fluid pools out of me. I smile at the pretty red color that it is, and for the first time since I defeated Voldemort, I feel alive. I switch hands, cutting my left wrist. I sigh, lying my head back down. I dip my hands into the cool water, the water that will be the savior to the savior.

An unbidden image of Draco pops into my head. Draco looking better than he ever has before, Draco laughing with his friends, Draco on the back of a broom, eyes narrow in concentration. And I know that if he could just look at me once, not in disgust or hate, I would be fine; that everything would be fine, that I would feel something.

I don't know how long passes before I see something else. Draco accepting my hand in friendship, Draco and I kissing, Draco walking down the aisle, Draco holding a baby, then twins; a big house on a hill, children flying around on brooms; Draco and I in each other's arms.

That's when I realize what's going on. That could have been my life. I could have had all that and more if I wanted.

"Harry!" The words I blurred, I can barely understand them. "Harry, no!"

I feel hands move me, but I can't open my eyes anymore, I'm too tired to move. I hear a noise, and then I feel something, around my wrists.

I'm picked up, all the while hearing the person mutter. I know that they're not muttering I just can't hear them right now. I feel myself moving, everything feels sluggish to me.

"Harry, Harry, please, be okay!"

Doors are thrown open, and a fuss is raised as I'm set on something soft. I feel a hand on my check and open my eyes; fighting the tiredness, the pain, everything, to look at the person who ruined my plans.

I must me in heaven. I open my eyes, and the first thing I see is a blond haired angel.

I can feel people fussing over me, over my wrists, but I can't take my eyes off the blond haired angel, the one who saved me.

I open my mouth, but a hand comes over it, "Shh, Harry, don't speak, you're going to be okay."

"Angel, my pretty Angel."

The angel smiles above me, and I feel wetness on my face, but I don't care anymore, because I can't deal with the pain anymore, but because my angel is here, beside me, everything will turn out okay. I close my eyes, the image of angel firmly planted into my brain, and I smile.

The pain is gone, nothing hurts anymore. I don't feel the pain of being alone, or feel depressed. I don't feel the pain of having no use, of not meaning anything, of being left behind. All of my pain is gone, and I smile.

I don't feel the tears of angel run down my face, or the cries of anguish that follow, but I do know, that I will never be alone again, because Angel was here with me.


End file.
